The Child
by Danja
Summary: AU. Seven and the son she never knew. Post-"Endgame". FINAL CHAPTER UP! R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**The Child**

* * *

Seven _HATED_ Christmas. She absolutely_ DESPISED_ it.

If she had to watch a holo-version of "A Charlie Brown Christmas" _ONE MORE_ time, she was going to go mad.

Everywhere she went, it seemed, she was surrounded by children. Children at the mall lining up to ask Santa what they wanted for Christmas. Songs over the PA system going on and on about some baby named "Jesus" (any mention of a baby _REALLY _stung Seven).

* * *

Seven sat on a park bench, watching the children laugh and run and play at the playground off in the distance. She wore blue jeans, a denim jacket, a red T-shirt, and brown suede boots. All this in addition to the oversize sunglasses she wore to cover her Borg eyepiece.

* * *

_All Seven remembered about the father was his designation: Six of Fifteen._

_They were two young drones in their early twenties – man and woman. Their mutual sexual curiosity had gotten the better of them._

_She knew that she had conceived a son (her reproductive system had __notified her as much)._

* * *

_Weeks later, her reproductive system notified her that her son had been taken from her womb._

* * *

_Day after day, Seven would walk in front of the bank of embryonic maturation chambers. She would walk by her son's chamber – labeled Four of Twelve – and stare at it._

_Days turned into weeks, which turned into months. The embryo had become a fetus, which necessitated placement into a fetal maturation chamber._

* * *

_One day, Four of Twelve's fetal maturation chamber was missing._

_Seven looked for Four of Twelve's maturation chamber within her cube. It had been transferred to another unimatrix far away from her. _

_It was Gone._

_Vanished … Forever._

* * *

It hurt just to think about it. The Borg had stolen Seven's son from her womb - and then from her life - like a thief in the night (there's nothing quite like motherhood to hinder one's performance as a drone).

Seven thought if she _just_ worked hard enough, she could quash those forbidden feelings - feelings for her son, feelings for something other than the Collective.

She threw herself into her work. She became the most ruthless drone the Hive had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Even after Seven had been captured by _Voyager _and severed from the Collective, the feelings never quite went away. If anything, they came back with a vengeance.

_Naomi Wildman. _Seven's thoughts turned to Naomi Wildman. _Had I gone back to the Hive,_ she thought, _I would've been tasked with leading an assimilation party aboard Voyager … and assimilating Naomi._

_I can't do that. Not anymore. I can't do to her what the Borg did to me. _

_She was so young … so innocent. So full of life._

* * *

At home later that day, the phone rang in Seven's living room.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Annika? It's Irene," said Aunt Irene on the other end of the line. Aunt Irene was of the few people Seven permitted to call her by her legal name (at Burwell College, she was known on campus as "Dr. Hansen"). "I was wondering if I could come over Christmas morning."

"Sure," Seven replied. "When's a good time for you?"

"How about ten-thirty hours?"

"That's fine. I'll see you then." Seven then added. "When is it again?"

"When is what?"

"Christmas," Seven replied. "Christmas morning."

"December twenty-fifth."

"December twenty-fifth. I'll make a note of that," said Seven. "I keep forgetting."

"Being on starships all those years must've been discombobulating," said Aunt Irene.

"There's so much I don't know," said Seven. "So much to learn." _For twenty years, there wasn't a thought in my head that the Borg didn't put in there first,_ she thought.

"I'll see you Christmas morning," said Aunt Irene.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

_CHRISTMAS__ EVE_

Seven sat outside her house in the desert, staring at the lit fire pit. The undulating flames cast a yellow-orange glow in the night.

She sat in a metal chair, wrapped in a blanket against the cold December air.

* * *

_Seven of Nine, Personal Journal_

_Still trying to wrap my head around this whole idea of "Christmas"._

_Where was this so-called all-powerful "God of the Universe" when my son was taken from me?_

* * *

_CHRISTMAS MORNING_

Seven sat on the sofa, waiting for Aunt Irene. She was dressed in a light blue long-sleeved shirt and navy blue sweat pants with grey socks on her feet.

Seven's holographic pug Chuckles wandered over to her. "Hey, Chuckles," she whispered as she scratched the back of his neck.

The doorbell rang. Seven got up and went over to the door.

Seven opened the door. "Merry Christmas!" said Aunt Irene as she walked in carrying a large gift-wrapped box with a red bow on top.

Aunt Irene was small, thin, and in her early sixties. She had close-cropped gray-to-white hair.

"Let me get that," said Seven as she took the box from Aunt Irene.

"Thank you," said Aunt Irene as Seven took the box from her.

"Please ... Sit down," said Seven as she gestured towards the sofa.

* * *

"Open it. I got it for you," said Aunt Irene as she and Seven settled themselves on the sofa.

Seven unwrapped the box. She opened the box and pulled out several pairs of wool socks.

"You can always do with a pair of socks," said Aunt Irene. "It gets cold in the desert at night."

"Yes, it does," said Seven. She then reached into the box and pulled out a grey weighted blanket.

"Something to snuggle in," said Aunt Irene with a smile.

"Thank you," said Seven with a shy smile. "I really appreciate this."

"You're welcome," said Aunt Irene.

* * *

"Annika, I wonder if I could ask you a question," said Aunt Irene. She and Seven were eating lunch. Aunt Irene ate replicated glazed ham, mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole with a glass of Chardonnay.

"Sure," Seven replied. Seven was a vegetarian (she couldn't abide eating anything that had walked around in the recent past). She ate garlic hummus and grilled tempeh. She too had a glass of Chardonnay right along with Aunt Irene.

"What do you know about Christmas?" Aunt Irene asked.

"From what I can gather, it has something to do with someone called Jesus and his being born in a stable," Seven replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I was curious," Aunt Irene replied. "I was wondering if you knew ... what any of this_ means_."

"I know that parents spent ... _copious_ ... amounts of money buying toys for their children for Christmas."

"Do they celebrate Christmas ... on the Tendara Colony?" Aunt irene asked.

"I don't remember," Seven replied. "My parents were consumed with their work."

It was painful for Seven to discuss the past - the pre-Borg Better Times. Her life had been split in two - Before the Borg and After Leaving the Collective (she would always be Borg; she needed only to look in the mirror to be reminded of it).

"Merry Christmas," said Aunt irene as she raised her glass.

"Merry Christmas," Seven replied softly as she raised hers in return. _Merry Christmas,_ she thought, directing her thoughts towards her son.

THE END


End file.
